


Fallen Soldiers: Captivus

by agiftedmind



Series: Fallen Soldiers [3]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Slavery, M/M, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:57:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8535844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agiftedmind/pseuds/agiftedmind
Summary: It wasn't his first time in the slavecollar. Bluestreak: Then and now, separated by a number of million years. You can liberate the slave; but can you liberate the mind?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I figured getting this out of the way would let me focus on editing the final chapter for _Shattered Gestalt_ and the next of Fulcrum's drabbles. 
> 
> As always, updates when I can manage them.

It was supposed to have been a simple scouting mission. In and out, easy. Reports had the Decepticons busy elsewhere and not in the area. It was the perfect time to scout out a planet for the newest 'bridge and its guard Colony.  
  
He was there because as much as he was a sniper, he knew how to _fight_.  
  
Yet, something had gone horribly, horribly _wrong_. Likely Intel. He hoped it was, because his team was _dead_ thanks to an ambush that had taken out the shuttle and killed all but him; he'd been forced to _witness_ it before being allowed to flee.  
  
It wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last, and he cut that line of thought with a ruthlessness born of survival learned in open warfare.  
  
Now he was literally fleeing for his life across the planet's rocky, uneven terrain as three Decepticons chased him towards the looming mesa and canyon walls. He didn't want to go there, but every time he tried to veer away, potshots brought him back onto the route they wanted him to take.  
  
It was cat and mouse; they were toying with him and he knew it oh so _so_ _so_ well.  
  
His spark trembled and his wheels slipped against a rock, sending him into wild, uncontrolled fishtail as he struggled to regain control of his driving before the racers caught up to him. Wheels spun under him, finding purchase against the ground at last and he zoomed off, hoping against hope that he'd outrun them.  
  
He didn't think he would; they were so close now and they were _racers_ ; built for _speed_ over power, yet they were also Decepticon - and he knew they contained powerful engines. If they'd been a menace on the battlefields of war, then they were outright terrifying now and the war had ended. _Officially_ , that was.   
  
The laughing, mocking jeers drew closer as if to urge him on, taunting him with what they'd do to him if he tired out now.  
  
One of them pulled level with him, and he had to make a sharp turn to avoid being rammed.  
  
"Awwww. No kiss?"  
  
He _barely_ understood them; it'd been so long since he'd paid any attention to what he'd painfully learned in those scant vorns under-  
  
The Autobot pushed his engine to make him go faster. No matter how it hurt, how much pain he was in, he _had_ to outlast them _somehow_. Had to - had to find a way to _escape_ , and as the mesa walls loomed, his spark bleated panicked distress. If he went in there, he'd be trapped. He didn't doubt they knew this area; they played across it like it was the back of their hand.  
  
In the distance, he could hear the rumble of other engines.  
  
The whooping of sirens he knew too well, too _intimately_.  
  
His spark blanched horror and his engine stalled, momentum slowing as friction slowly took over again while memory after memory of abuse, of near death, of death games and the sadistic slagger's version of fun assaulted his cortex.

 _something over him with a grin/red optics/pain as deadly claws tore it off/ pleasure as one of them assaulted his doorwings, the other his spark/_nono **no** _he was screaming as they tore his sparkplates open/the sheer terror that swept him at being literally unable to open his sparkplates for his masters' pleasure, the Looks and then the pleased smirks-_

  
no no no _nonono **NOT AGAIN PLEASE**_ -  
  
His engine engaged, choked and sputtered as he forced it back up to its top speed as he took the only option and dove into the canyon, hoping, praying, screaming in his own mind that he'd outrun Him. He fishtailed around a corner then took a left as he blindly followed the walls, sensors attempting to keep up with demands he track his tormentors, listen for them over his own engines and find a bolthole that he could wait them out in - or find a way out of the blasted maze he'd run headlong into like a frightened youngling.  
  
He took a left with a fishtail, not knowing where it'd lead, but it was better than running into a Decepticon -  
  
And suddenly he had Decepticons up his aft after him, this time close enough to feel the energonlust and dark, dark _promises_ of pain and pitfire. The sniper pushed himself forward, wringing every gram of energy he had from his frame and engine.  
  
It still wasn't enough, and slowly, slowly, he found himself slipping on rocky ground as his speed gave way to exhaustion and overclocking systems. Twice he was almost rammed into the wall, twice he pulled ahead, only for one of them to pull away, twice he'd almost run into the purple Freightliner when it'd suddenly appeared.  
  
Then, they pulled away, melting back into the canyon like they'd never been there, only he _knew_ they were still there. Just because his own engine had almost deafened him -  
  
His speed slowed, and again he pushed himself on, vents heaving, choking as he tried to pull in enough air to cool rapidly overheating systems.  
  
Lurid neon-pink warnings lit up his HUD. He had no choice _but_ to stop, or he'd face critical engine failure. A moment's rest was worth the risk; engine failure would leave him _helpless_ , unable to even move while his spark burned in its casing as vents slowly choked on the demands to heave in cool air. It was not a pleasant fate as it would send him offline, and dangerously close to spark failure and it wasn't a fate he wanted -. He slowly slowed to a stop, pressing himself back under an overhang and flung every vent and door he had open, sucking in as much cool air as possible and fans whirred and clicked, protesting the rush of air. Heat wavered around him as he frantically dumped it on the outside, yet he didn't care.  
  
_Hands gripped for the rifle that was no longer there as blue optics looked around_ \- No. That memory needed to cease now. He forced himself to strain blown audios to the limit so that he might hear _anything_ other than the looping sound-memory of his own engine.  
  
Eventually, something crashed into him, and on instinct, he transformed, flailing against the black-and-white attacker until the blade of a zrill was pinning them above his head, another so, so close to his helm that he stilled, sky-blue optics wide, panicked.  
  
NO _NO_ **_NO_** -  
  
He didn't scream, even if his optics widened even more as panic attempted to claim his systems. He was too, too well trained for that, even with a voice.  
  
Panic turned to _terror_ as the blade pinning his hands dug in deeper, his captor, tormentor - _master_ \- leaning his weight just so, only stopping as three sets of footfalls approached.  
  
"Awww. Caught already?"  
  
"He didn't even make it to MM and 'Down."  
  
"We should let it go, what do you think 'Caders?"  
  
Cruel, cruel optics looked down at him, all four unblinking as his tormentor considered. Weight shifted, the blades came closer and the Autobot let out a static zrkt as his engine whined inside his frame. Wheels spun uselessly against the surface he was pinned to.  
  
"Maybe after I tear it's pretty array out and feed it to it," 'Cade laughed, leaning in low to savour his victim's terror. The Autobot whimpered, optics squeezed shut. "Always did like huntin' the kills down. Yet...."  
  
nonono _nonono_ ** _nonono_** this wasn't happening, this _couldn't_ be happening. Claws touched him -  
  
Pain bloomed as alerts registered what had been ripped away. There was a claw in his port, pressing against the soft coppercoil wires that lined it.  
  
"N-No Master. _Please_ -" he squealed, forcing himself against the claws.  
  
"Well, at least you remember how to _beg_."  
  
The claw dug in and the Autobot screamed, even as his body jerked into the cruel, cruel touch like a traitorously trained thing. "Please- Master-"  
  
Even as the Decepticons crowded in, Bluestreak knew the words falling from his vocaliser would save his life, if not his array; he knew well how much Wildrider liked his plug, how Barricade enjoyed fragging him. He knew well how much both _enjoyed_ him.   
  
Even as memories - good and bad- started to hit him as he writhed, pleaded and _screamed_ under the torture that was inflicted, under the rapes, he knew they'd keep him alive.  
  
If they wanted him dead, he'd _be_ dead. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Prowl mentioned here is the G1!version of Prowl. Warnings for PTSD. I am not nice to Bluestreak, hahaha....

"Oi, Sunshine?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Sideswipe ignored the growl, laced with static as it was over the commlink. "How long's he been here?"  
  
He was a silver-grey-red mech by the name of Bluestreak. The elegant and clean-yet-functional Praxian build reminded Sideswipe of the tactician Prowl, though where Prowl talked, sometimes at length if he really got going, Bluestreak did _not_.  
  
They'd personally heard maybe eight words from him, if that, in the two orns he'd been here.  
  
"Not long, I don't think. Never is here for longer than it takes to down his cube. Why?"  
  
"Just curious," Sideswipe sent back as he filled the other cube. By rights, Bluestreak was a civilian attached to the base, waiting evac back to Cybertron.  
  
"You're never just curious," Sunstreaker muttered as his twin joined him, accepting the offered cube.  
  
"You wound me," the red-and-black said, hiding the grin behind his own cube as he watched Bluestreak move to get his own cube. It was a pity the whole base was on rations of plain energon, but this close to the front, there was little helping it. "Looks skittish."  
  
Sunstreak shot him a Look. "He's new, what'd you expect?"  
  
"Two orns." Since they'd found him offline at an extraction point by chance.  
  
"Still new," the golden twin growled back.  
  
"He's jumping at shadows."  
  
He really was, if the way the poor civvie seemed to flinch at every loud sound or the way he took one of the far tables near the exit to the dorms. As far as they knew, he lived in those dorms, only ever leaving to fuel, or for medical check-ups.  
  
"Civilian," Sunstreaker hissed with another drag of the cube. "Not my type."  
  
Sideswipe half agreed with his twin, but that wasn't the point. "And? He's still cute and easy on the optics."  
  
Sunstreaker groaned, but his twin did have a point. Just because they weren't looking for it, didn't mean they couldn't enjoy the view. "Fine. Bring him over here. See if he's got a nice voice to go with the face."  
  
"Me? Why not you?" He glared. "Why don't you do it this time, considering I got your energon, Sunny."  
  
Sunny gave him an exasperated glare. "One, _don't_ call me that. Two, you know why, afthead."  
  
"But you love it," Sideswipe smirked, ducking the halfsparked punch thrown his way, then shrugged. Draining his cube, the red-and-black got up and made his way to the table, where he talked to the skittish mech for a bit. Sunstreaker knew he could technically listen in via the twin-bond, but that felt like cheating.  
  
Eventually, Sideswipe returned with Bluestreak in tow, and Sunstreaker's coding pinged against his mind. Primus fragging Lithone, up close the civvie was elegant in the way Nobles were, yet the Praxian build was different enough to mark him as Praxian Colonist. Pria in all likelihood as that had been the main one. Yet, he really did look like he'd jump at his own shadow. Two orns and they hadn't express evac'd this one to somewhere not the frontlines?  
  
Command was stretched thin, but for _frag's sake_. Then again, maybe the mech had simply been made to look Noble. Who the frag knew with Colonists anyway.  
  
Well, nothing to it. He might as well try and make nice.  
  
"Hey," he said as politely as he could, doing his best to keep the rough Yussian accent out of his voice as he propped his chin in a hand. He took another drink of his cube, optics roaming Bluestreak's frame in admiration. Pit, he wanted a frame that good.  
  
Still wasn't his type, but Sides had been right on how good-looking he was. _Almost_ as good as Sunstreaker himself.  
  
"H-hi," the Probably-not-a-Noble shifted a little, doorwings angled down.  
  
"Hey, have a seat. We don't bite... much," Sideswipe said, his accent only slightly worse than his twins. Yet, his grinned faltered when Bluestreak shook his head.  
  
"No, sorry..." he backed away, doorwings hiking in what the twins thought was unease.  
  
"What's your problem?" Sunstreaker asked, optics narrowing slightly. Skittish civvies where one thing, but this reeked of prejudice and he got enough of it from Iaconians and Tarnites, sometimes even Urans or Polyhexans.  
  
The fact he couldn't read the other's 'field made it _worse_.  
  
" _Sunstreaker_!" Sideswipe kicked his brother, pointedly ignoring the glare as he turned to Bluestreak with what he hoped was a friendly smile. "Don't mind Sourkrat over here. I think his energon's messing with his CPU. "  
  
"I..." Bluestreak stared at them, optics flitting to Sunstreaker, who had his leg up as he inspected the finish on his paint, to Sideswipe, then back to Sunstreaker.  
  
"If you scuffed my finish, I'll wring your neck, afthead."  
  
Sideswipe just grinned cheekily at his twin as the other put his leg down. Why'd his brother have to be a Star wannabe? "In what way?"  
  
That was maybe a little more suggestive than it could have been, but no-one but them had to know it was _only_ teasing; even those they chose to take to their berth on the rare occasion they could agree _never_ scored both at once.  
  
"I-" Bluestreak stilled, optics wide as he shook his head so fast they thought it might as well have fallen off if it weren't attached. "I - So-Sorry. I..." the Probably-a-Noble inhaled, vents dumping air almost in the same intake. "I have to go."  
  
  
"Hey! Wait - don't go?" Sideswipe reached out and grabbed Bluewstreak by the wrist, doing his best to ignore the jumpiness of the other mech. "Just sit? Please?"  
  
Only once his wrist was released did Bluestreak sit, but he refused to look at them and from time to time, a hand moved up to his neck, rubbing the back of it in what the twins could only assume was a nervous habit. Even if it was, they wouldn't judge, not when their own nervous habits were downright destructive to their frames. He barely glanced at Sideswipe when the frontliner managed to produce a sort of burp from energon fumes.  
  
"Disgusting," Sunstreaker said as he halfsparkedly shoved his twin with a small head shake. It took skill, but that didn't mean it wasn't gross. "Can't you even act like a civil mech?"  
  
"Yea, but I just choose not to, Sunshine," Sideswipe said with a laugh as he tried, and failed, to steal Sunstreaker's energon.  
  
"W-What do you want..?"  
  
Both twins stopped at the question, and as one turned to stare in confusion at Bluestreak. "What do you mean?" They said together with identical looks of confusion. "We don't want anything."  
  
It was true. Good looking or not, Bluestreak wasn't Sunstreakers type, and Sideswipe never chased after a mark his twin couldn't agree on either. It just wasn't done in their mind.  
  
"Everyone wants something," Bluestreak said softly, half-finished cube gripped tight enough they knew any tighter and the thing would _shatter_.  
  
Sideswipe opened his mouth, but Sunstreaker beat him to the punch. "We wanted you to come over here and talk to us. That's it."  
  
"Yea," Sideswipe agreed with a nod as he shifted, 'field flickering confusion and concern.  
  
Yet, Bluestreak seemed to wilt in on himself. "Oh..."  
  
"You looked like you could use some friends as well," Sideswipe smiled, lightly giving the other a friendly pat on the back only for Bluestreak to stiffen, optics wide and almost white in their intensity. Yet, before either twin could react to that, the civilian that was Most-Likely-A-Fragging- _Noble_ excused himself and darted away and out towards the safety of the corridors and hallways that lead towards the dorms.  
  
"What the frag?" Sideswipe blinked, a clueless look on his face that echoed his 'field and spark as he stared at Sunstreaker.  
  
"What just happened?" Sunstreaker asked lowly.  
  
Sideswipe gave a helpless shrug. "All I did was give him a pat on the back..."  
  
"Do we go after him?" the yellow-and-black asked, optics tracking to where Bluestreak had hurried off to.  
  
" _Yes_ ," Sideswipe said, voice flat and emissions field even flatter as he stood. A glare from him and Sunstreaker drained the cube and stood as well.  
  
Time to go find out what the frag had spooked the Prian Noble.  
  
  
\--  
  
They found Blustreak curled up in one of the rarely used hallways, doorwings all but pinioned at a downwards angle that had to be as uncomfortable as it looked, if not more so. It seemed like he was out of it, though the way his arms were curled over his head seemed to suggest that he was trying to block the world out.  
  
_Huh._  
  
They shared a look before Sunstreaker exvented and scuffed the floor. They expected the other to look up or at least tell them to go away.  
  
Not look up in a panic, optics practically white with more than a ghosting of fear in them as doorwings jerked up in alarm at the same time the mech bolted up. "I-"  
  
"Seriously, _what's wrong_?" Sunstreaker growled. Sure, he didn't give a frag about anyone but his brother, but this was a civilian- a fragging Noble that was acting Odd.  
  
"I... I have to leave," the skittish mech said as he started to back away, looking around, but doing his best to keep the twins in his vision.  
  
"We haven't even done anything," Sunstreaker said as he started to move forward, only to be yanked back by his brother. /What?/  
  
/Do you feel his 'field?/ came the reply.  
  
/...No. Your point?/  
  
/You keep going, you're gonna get attacked and then you'll be in the 'bay then brig for attacking a Noble. We both know it, Sunstreaker,/ Sideswipe added at the snort. Nobles could be finicky yet reasonable at best and downright unreasonable at worse, and there was no sense in risking their careers over this.   
  
Ignoring the growl, Sideswipe took a step forward, hands spread, palms up and 'field as calm as he could make it. "Look, I'm sorry if I spooked you before-"  
  
"I-" the Noble started, then shook his head as he leaned heavily against the wall, one hand coming up to rub his neck yet again. "Not him."  
  
"Him?" Sideswipe asked as he crept a fracton closer, spark sinking as he ignored the idea that he should call Swiftflare and have the commander figure out how to evac the Noble _now_.  
  
"Not him. Got away." Bluestreak said instead as he started to slide down the wall with a squeal of metal on metal until he was sitting again.  
  
Sideswipe closed his optics, inhaled then opened them again. A quick glance at his twin, and he nodded once. They'd done this, _they_ should be the ones to fix it, not the base commander. He sighed and took a giant leap of faith as he moved closer until he was kneeling beside Bluestreak, hand hovering, but not touching. His voice was gentle as he could get it. "Hey, Bluestreak, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothings wrong? Why do you ask that? What gave you the thought that anything is wrong?" Bluestreak said, optics still wide, still almost white.   
  
They still couldn't feel his field, and that was getting worrisome. Only a panicked mechanoid would hide their 'field.   
  
"Something's wrong, Bluestreak. We aren't stupid." He reached out without thinking about it to touch Bluestreak's arm and wished he hadn't when the slightly smaller jerked back - and started to lash out at him, as if trying to fight him off.   
  
   
  
Behind him, he felt Sunstreaker start to move, and held up his hand in a no as he scooted back a bit. Bluestreak didn't seem to notice, and Sideswipe blanched.   
  
/Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Sunstreaker?/ he asked over the twin-bond, never taking his optics off Bluestreak as the mech curled up, hands over his head.   
  
/He's not fighting us./  
  
/I've heard what 'Con's do to Nobles.../ Not just Nobles, but with how elegant Bluestreak's frame was, it was a safe assumption to think of him as one. If he wasn't, then the mech had the worst luck in life.   
  
/I'll stand guard, you fix this,/ Sunstreaker growled, even as he shifted so he was leaning against the wall. His field radiated not-a-threat, but Sideswipe knew his twin was ready to make anyone that came near them eat plasma fire.  
  
   
  
It took a while for Bluestreak to speak again, but when he did, it was as shaky as his attempts to stand. "I-- I... Sorry. I... I need to go."  
  
"No, Bluestreak, wait," Sideswipe shook his head while behind him, Sunstreaker shifted. Not enough to block the hallway, but enough to make himself known. While they weren't entirely sure what was going on, they'd seen other mechs in the army like this, and some of them had not handled themselves well. If they could help Bluestreak, that would be so much more preferable.  
  
"I.. Please... I have to go," Bluestreak all but whined, and the twins jerked, sharing a look. Frag, just how _young_ was this Noble?  
  
Sideswipe shook his head again. "Look, we want to help you. At least let us take you to see one of the medics or something if you don't want to talk to us."  
  
"I can't! No one would understand!"   
  
"Understand what?" Sunstreaker chimed in, and Sideswipe wished he could hit his twin, but- that seemed to be the magic words, as Bluestreak started talking.  
  
"W-what it's like to lose your city then have everything taken away from you! _Everything_. To be degraded like a common piece of scrap.. beaten.. used.. broken... enslaved..." His voice was a mere whisper by the end, fans running hot as they tried to inhale and dump air at the same time.   
  
Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared a look before Sideswipe's mouth dropped open. That - that was not what they'd expected, and he scrambled for something to say, anything. "Well...no, _we_ don't know what that's like, but _you_ don't have to be afraid of it happening anymore."  
  
"B-But y-you're angry," Bluestreak said, voice trembling, and if Sideswipe wasn't feeling things, that was the edge of a _terrified_ 'field right before it was pulled back in. He glanced back at Sunstreaker and winced at the darkness in his twin's optics. While he knew it wasn't directed at the smaller mech but to whatever pit-spawned glitch had done that to the poor mech, Bluestreak didn't.   
  
"Not at you. Never at you," Sideswipe said, honesty bleeding into nanite of his being. "We're angry at whoever did this to you."  
  
"Oh..." Bluestreak seemed to gape at them, and Sunstreaker wondered who'd dared to blame a victim for his reactions. "Can't stop the memories... Can't stop the fear...the hurt..."  
  
"Do... You want to talk?" Sideswipe asked as he shifted so he was sitting beside the mech. It seemed like Bluestreak needed someone to talk to, and while it would have been infinitely _better_ to go to the medics... well. Sometimes medics didn't understand, and while he doubted he and his twin were even remotely qualified for this, Well. He would have liked to take this somewhere more comfortable and especially preferable would be more private, but he didn't want to press Bluestreak any further than he had already. "Tell us what happened?"  
  
It was a question, not a demand. If Bluestreak really _wanted_ to talk, he would.  
  
"I.. there was an attack o-on Pria.. and those they didn't kill-" Bluestreak stuttered out while intakes and vents heaved in air. "It was- there was... Frenzy."  
  
"Frenzy?!" Sideswipe blanched while Sunstreaker's face turned even darker. Was the young Noble hacked? Worse, if the glitched minicon was there, then so was Soundwave. " _Soundwave_ -?"  
  
Bluestreak shook his head weakly. "No. I-I - He- It-It wasn't."  
  
"Who was it?" Sunstreaker asked, voice rough yet 'field gentle.  
  
"It was someone else-"  
  
And Bluestreak told them as much as he could. Was willing to, and with each word, the twins found themselves vowing to find and kill whoever had done this to somemecha so _young_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, please.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was both very fun to write, and extremely hard; it was originally going to be one large chapter, but I opted to split it. Plus, I'll be doing up an edited version of what comes next for FF net and those who don't wish to read the explicit chapter.
> 
> Kaiju Hakai Mikado means, roughly, Monster Emperor of Destruction, with Mikado being a very old term for Emperor. The Kaiju mentioned will be seen again, but not in this story, and not for a while.

If he were honest with himself, Bluestreak wasn't sure _how_ he'd survived the bombing runs, only to be picked up by a Decepticon group combing the twisted wreck that had once been Pria, knocked offline, then onlined here. 'Here' being the pitforsaken jumble of sound and noise -and were those distant  _screams_?!- that seemed almost like a fabled metal-market of sorts.

He really, frantically, hoped it  _wasn't_. Primus, he was only _just_ past his first megavorn; legally an adult, but still under the care of his Caretakers for another handful of vorn, who'd promised to help set him up on his first date. 

He tried to move back, unwilling to risk bringing attention to himself if he stood, but all that got was a rattle of chains and the cold steel of something at his back.

He followed the chains up and up until his doorwings rose in alarm as he found the chains attached to the top of a thick metal pole. Twisting around, he found it sunk deep into the ground, and a glance back up at it confirmed his thoughts. It looked like it could hold eight mecha easily if the chains dangling meant anything, yet it seemed as if he was the only one at this pole.

His tank seemed to roll in horror and he looked down, somehow relieved to know his Autobrand was still there. Thank the Golden Crystals. He wasn't sure what he'd have done if it'd been missing.

Screamed, probably.

He wasn't the only Autobot here though, and he tried and failed, to activate his comms. They didn't feel like anything had been torn out, so either disabled or jammed.

Vocally calling out, he decided after a klik or two of thought, would bring unwanted attention. He had to settle for looking at them from a distance, and what he could see of his fellow Autobots offered some hope.

While they were all chained, they didn't seem to be missing limbs, and some seemed in better condition than others. That had to mean _something_ , right?

The poles holding them were the same as his, though not all of them held eight. Most held one or two, or rarely, four, and Bluestreak tried not to think of what that could mean other than no-one friendly to chat with, curling up on himself with a whimper and yet another rattle of chains. Chains, he realised as he studied them, that had been attached to his wrists in a way as to make transformation impossible.

 _At least it's not an inhibitor claw_ , he thought as he looked around some more, following the poles long enough to catch sight of a battered and bleeding Elite Guard in the lurid green thing as well as heavy chains, almost face first in his own energon pooled under him.

Bluestreak tried to ignore it all. This was a  _stasis dream_. A  _bad_  one he'd soon wake from, able to seek out his Caretakers, Fallback and her Conjunx, Hypershot, and gain comfort. Maybe they'd go to one of the more exclusive parts of Pria - but not the really exclusive parts; he wasn't that high on the Noble totem pole, closer to the ground than the middle, but they had money, and he certainly wasn't even one of the lowest ranking Tower Nobles.

He'd get the newest shade of grey and red, oggle the latest hunting rifles -both sparked and unsparked- and the newest litters of cybercats, though he'd never get a cyberlion; those were the purview of the Towers only. Then he'd go and find his friends and head to the pictures, or one of the malls, or maybe a hunting range.

Hunting ranges were great; he often wielded a sparked rifle, and they handled like a  _dream_  compared to the unsparked. Maybe one day he'd save enough credits to buy one for himself and head to the Praxus War Academy on Cybertron. Maybe, but the war and Decepticons were a distant threat someone  _else_  could deal with. He'd likely head to the Civil Academy though, and a sparked rifle would gain him access to the higher tier shooting clubs.

This was a bad statismare and there was _nothing_ wrong in his life.

That illusion shattered as something small and silver cartwheeled its way across the ground closest to him, kicking up dirt and dust as it went.

 _A Minicon_?! Sure, everyone knew the Decepticons had more than half the race slaved to them as power-ups, but seeing one so free... it was almost mindboggling. Almost, because the Minicon was spindly and pointed, possibly of Animatros or Planet X origin, but who knew with the little things. He'd seen Long Arm, Redalert's Minicon, and it had been pointed and jagged too. Yet this one was pure silver with blue optics on stalks; the telltale linkage port on its torso stood out, almost proudly so, and if it wasn't for the iris that covered the connectors and callipers, he'd have thought it unbound. There was no denying who it was, and Bluestreak felt his spark run cold as space.

_Frenzy._

One of Soundwave's _personal_ Minicons. Everyone knew who Soundwave and his team were; it was hard not to know, even if it was just names and faces.

Frenzy cartwheeled again before wheeling around and launching himself into the air, coming to rest on the shoulder of a black-and-white shocktrooper.

Even Bluestreak, as disconnected from the war as he was, knew the general build of a shocktrooper. It was like looking at a Praxian Enforcer, scaled up and turned into a dark, pointed nightmare that promised only a lingering, painful death.

Why Frenzy was with it, Bluestreak didn't know and didn't want to know, and when four malevolent red optics turned on him, Bluestreak curled up, shuddering when he heard footsteps headed his way.

No. No. No. No please no he didn't want to be the focus of a killer's attention, let alone Frenzy's.  

Chains rattled, and he found himself roughly hauled to his feet, coming face to chest with the Decepticon, arms wrenched painfully above his head as if he were merely a puppet or toy on a wire. A slew of information hit his sensors, the foremost being the dark, cruel feel of the field. The second was a torrent of glyphs, that while he could read them, made little to no sense, as if someone had messed up all the words and run them through a blender, and the only things he could make out were ' _six-four-three_ ' and ' _to construct with barrels_ '. 

"Wha-"

The Decepticon rumbled, 'field flashing dark amusement and Bluestreak's engine growled. This, he decided, was an _affront_ to his dignity and social standing and he did the first thing that came to mind: he tried, in vain, to land a kick on his captor.

All that got him was aching arms and being held at arm's length.

"You will be fun to break."

That was the first Decepticon he'd understood, and the voice was dark, full of malice and hate and Bluestreak jerked back as much as he could, optics flared in outrage. "I am _not_ a sparked possession!"

The only answer to the question was the Decepticon's claws cupping his face, forcing him to stare up at the faces of the pair. "You'll learn."

And then Bluestreak found himself stumbling back until he slammed against the pole, sliding down with a startled gasp.  He blinked a few times, optics automatically focusing on the Shocktrooper and the field that bled cruel amusement.

The shocktrooper said something as it -he- pointed at him, and the Minicon landed in front of Bluestreak with what sounded like a cackle. Thankfully, it didn't approach, even as the Decepticon headed off to the west. To do what, Bluestreak didn't know, but he had a sinking feeling that if this was a metal-market, his fate had just been sealed.

To take his mind off it as best he could, he looked around, trying to see if he could spot any of his friends, or when that failed, something interesting to stare at that _wasn't_ the Minicon.

After a few klicks, his optics fell on what had to be a group of beast-alts. The smallest was a gryphon right out of fantasy novels, except instead of light greys and pale silvers, he was white with gold accents and gold-black wings that flicked now and again. The second was also a gryphon, but white with green-red accents and rust-brown wings, though it seemed to walk ahead somewhat, as if on guard. The last was a blue-white-gold animal he couldn't identify - maybe a dragon, but it looked wrong- with grey wings trimmed in white and red.

Every so often, the largest would nuzzle the smallest or drape a wing over him, as if showing affection.

 _I wonder who they are_ , Bluestreak thought as he watched them move through the Decepticons like they owned the place.  _I thought Hypershot said the Flame of Animatros had declared the planet neutral?_

"Kaiju Hakai Mikado."

"Huh?" Bluestreak's head whipped around to stare at the Minicon. He hadn't realised he'd spoken aloud. "I- Kaiju?"

As in, the things from Cybertron's Rust Sea's Dead Zone that attacked trader ships?

"Yes. Kaiju," the Minicon said in stilted Standard, as if that answered anything when it _didn't_ , nothing like the rapid-fire talking from before.

"You... understand me?" He thought Decepticon Minicons only understood their masters, or so the films he'd seen claimed.

"Littlelittle," Frenzy said with a shrug and Bluestreak could only assume he was telling the truth. "Autobutts speakity weirdi."

"We do not! I'll have you know Standard Neo Cybex is-"

"No'm'Standard," Frenzy said with a hiss as he -it- crept closer.

Bluestreak recoiled with a rattle of chains as if Frenzy were Soundwave himself. He might as well as be in the young Autobot's mind, for everyone knew where one of the Minicons was, Soundwave inevitably showed up.

Frenzy's grin was nasty, but thankfully he stayed where he was, and soon enough, his attention was on the approaching shocktrooper.

Frenzy didn't even wait until the Decepticon came to a stop, racing up his side and perching on his shoulder, chattering a million miles away in a language that, even if Bluestreak had understood, he'd be hard-pressed to follow. But that clearly wasn't an issue for the black-and-white, who seemed... amused, but also leery as he -it- glanced over its shoulder in the direction of the so-called Kaiju Mikado.

Then, it shrugged, and said something to the Minicon, offering it -

Was that a  _collar_?!

* * *

"That fragger _collared you_?" Sunstreaker exclaimed, loud enough to startle Bluestreak into standing, optics wide, 'field once against pulled tightly in on himself. "Uh-" Bluestreak said shakily as he slowly slid down, both hands clamped protectively around the back and sides of his neck. "Y-ea. It-"

"Take it easy, you don't have to continue if you don-"

"I... I want to. I have to. You d-don't. _N-Not him_. I-"

"Invent, Bluestreak," Sideswipe said as he scooted back a few steps so he wasn't crowding the young mecha.

"Ok," Bluestreak squeaked, flaring vents to dump heat and quell the rising panic.

Sideswipe watched him, ready to move away, or towards, the young Noble. Though it seemed he was fine where he was, and as Bluestreak's inventing slowly levelled out, Sideswipe dragged a hand down his face.

 _/Slagging pits. Do you think-/_ Primus, there was a word for Decepticons and it fragged up in spark and coding. Plus there was no doubt in his mind that whoever this Decepticon had been, had known what a Noble looked like.

_/If he's under a mega, I'm going to find Pointblank and shove his head up a canon./_

_/Peacemaker will-/_

_/What's he gonna do,_ beep _at me?/_ Sunstreaker shot back over the twin-bond. _/What's the point of a psych on base if he ain't doing his job?/_

 _/I don't think he knows about Blue.../_ Sideswipe sent back as he exhaled softly, scooting a little closer to the Noble. "Bluestreak, how...old are you?"

"One-em four-vee. Why?"

 _/Shoving Pointblank up a barrel and firing; he had to have known, he'd have a small file on Bluestreak-,/_ Sunstreaker growled over the twin-bond at the same time as Sideswipe asked: "Do you know Pointblank?"

"Uh...?" Bluestreak blinked. "Y-yes?"

"You should ta-"

"No." Bluestreak shook his head and abruptly latched onto Sideswipe's arm with enough force to drag a wince out of the frontliner. " _No_."

"Okay, okay," Sideswipe whispered, resigning himself to being clung to by someone other than his twin. "Do.... you want to move somewhere more private?"

"Um..." Bluestreak's optics darted around, flicking from Sunstreaker to Sideswipe then back to the golden twin.

"Sunny's just to keep watch over us, yea?" Sideswipe soothed. "If you really want, he'll go away."

Not far, but enough to be out of sight.

"No... i-it's.. ok. I'd... I'd like somewhere private," the young Noble said as he stood yet again.

"Ok," Sideswipe said, standing with Bluestreak.

It only once they'd settled into an unused dorm room, Sunstreaker standing guard, that Bluestreak picked up his story again. "He - Y-yes. He collared me. Or, well, Frenzy did-"      

* * *

He really wasn't sure how the Minicon went from the shocktrooper to his shoulder to wrapping the thick red collar around his neck and locking it in place - and it hurt, like something had decidedly clamped down and anchored itself around his spinal strut-, all within half a klik.

Chained or not, Bluestreak still had general movement, and the Minicon was flung across metal-market as hard and as far as Bluestreak could manage. 

Frenzy hit the ground with a shriek of metal and cussing, and for a brief nanoklik Bluestreak _hoped_ he'd _killed_ the thing. Then Frenzy picked himself up in one fluid motion, spitting the worst of the worst insults at him in binary, while the black-and-white Decepticon hissed something as he advanced.

The only thing Bluestreak understood was 'Soundwave'. 

His optics widened as he pressed himself against the pole. No. No. No. " _NO_!" 

"Then," the Decepticon said, understandable once again as he loomed over the shaking Autobot, "don't repeat that."

"I won't I won't-" Bluestreak started, only to find a clawed hand pressed crushingly against his vocaliser, the metal of the collar digging in. 

The threat was clear enough.

"Be silent."

Bluestreak clicked his vocaliser off with an engine whimper, pulling his already minuscule 'field in even further when the claws trailed down over his front and lingered on his Autobrand before the Decepticon stood.

Chains rattled as they were fiddled with and then Bluestreak found himself yanked up yet again, like some sort of toy. In a flash, a chain was added to the collar, and Bluestreak bristled, engine spluttering to life in protest.

Protest that was silenced with a sharp, painful yank followed by an electric shock that had him on his knees with a shriek as he clawed at the collar in a futile attempt to remove or dislodge it.

"A good look," the shocktrooper said lazily, something else following in that language that Bluestreak was starting to hate.

"Go to the pits!" Primus, his Caretakers would have his doorwings and chevron if they heard him speak like that. Twice over if they heard what he said next. "Pria smelt you!"

Both Decepticon and Minicon snorted. "That all you know?"

It was all he could think of, but he wasn't given the chance to reply. Another yank found him back on his feet. Feet he'd barely found when the chains yanked him forward as his captors started to lead him away. He had no choice but to follow, stumbling over his feet and almost ending up on his face to the laughter of both Decepticons.

"Stumbity ananand get draaaaged," Frenzy chittered in what was possibly the worst Neo Cybex he'd ever heard, before turning back to the Shocktrooper and chittering something, complete with gestures that looked more than a little crude and lewd. Bluestreak's doorwings twitched as he followed, trying to keep up with the long strides and sharp yanks whenever the Shocktrooper thought he wasn't fast enough.

Primus, I wasn't built with long legs, he wanted to scream, but he managed to think better of it.

* * *

The destination turned out to be the Shocktrooper's quarters, and no sooner had the code been entered and the chains dropped, Bluestreak found himself shoved in face first, captors following, into, in all honestly, a _dump_ that looked like it hadn't seen a cleaning crew, or at least a cleaning bot in a very long time. It was messy, filthy, and he was sure those cubes over there were _at least_ three megacycles old.

He stared in disbelief. He was going to be living _here_?! It didn't look fit for glitchmice!

"Ugh-" He managed out, chains rattling as he covered his mouth to keep what little was still in his tank remaining there. "This is - _ugh_."

He attempted to move away, only to find the shocktrooper at his back, the slagger's 'field amused once more. "I'm almost insulted, Noble."

Bluestreak's optics widened and he jerked away, only to find that as soon as he did, claws closed around the hinge of his doorwings, sharp claws digging into the delicate joints. " _No_ -!"

"Almost," the Decepticon continued, as if talking about the weather of all things. "Name?"

Name? "W-Why-"

"Name. Or I give you one, Autobot."

He must have hesitated, as the claws started to twist, and Bluestreak arched forward in an effort to ease the pain. "B-Bluestreak- _Please_ -"

" _To move very fast_ , huh?" The claws stilled and the Autobot got the impression the Shocktrooper was considering something, Frenzy chattering away from time to time.

Next thing he knew, he was forcefully shoved towards the mess, the shocktrooper growling something. 

"I-" Bluestreak started, only to find himself shoved again. 

"Name's Barricade," -so that was what ' _to construct with barrels_ ' meant- "but you'll be calling me-" a word Bluestreak did not understand, "-got it, slave?"

Mutely, he nodded, only to squeal as the collar activated. "Y-Yes!"

"Yes, what?" Barricade snarled, and Bluestreak twisted around, ready to attempt to defend himself - assuming he didn't tangle himself on the chains still attached to him- only to be shoved yet again. He stumbled back a step or two, throat working as it tried to repeat the word he'd been given. It took him several tries until he had it to an 'acceptable level'. 

"Good," Barricade continued before barking an order at Bluestreak as he pointed at something behind the newly made slave.

Bluestreak didn't dare ask for a translation as he turned to follow where the claw pointed; not when it was clear _he_ , a minor Noble by assembly, was to clean it up. 

* * *

 _/Hey, go get energon will you?/_ Sideswipe sent over the bond. _/He needs a break and more energon./_

 _/Sure,/_ Sunstreaker muttered, casting a glance at his twin, and the curled up, miserable form of Bluestreak.

"Hey, Bluestreak?" Sideswipe said with a gentle pulse of his em-field. 

"Hmm?" The ex-slave mumbled, blinking up at Sideswipe.

"We're going to have a break, and you need energon."

"But- I-" He was fine; he'd had his ration, and he'd turned off _those_ warning systems almost immediately. 

Sideswipe shoot him a look then sighed. Why them. Why couldn't Pointblank be doing this? Stupid question and he knew the answer. "Your frame's shaking like you're into reserves. You need it. Refuel, then story."

"Ok," Bluestreak nodded, doorwings hitched down, resigned to his fate, it seemed. Then he latched onto Sideswipe again, and the red-and-black frontliner sighed. He had to fight to keep the hope alive that the worst _hadn't_ happened, that Bluestreak had only been a cleaning bot. 

Yet, his spark - that very same spark that had them both horrified by what they'd heard so far- told him the worst was yet to come.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will leave it up to the readers to decide how much of what Barricade says is truth. 
> 
> **Warnings** : All the warnings here. There is explicit rape from a young victim's view. For the non-explicit version, [head over here](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12775112/4/Fallen-Soldiers-Captivus). Writing this ended up getting a bit personal in places for me, so please go in with caution.

Bluestreak was halfway through cleaning the dump (though, did all dumps contain collections of  _heads_?!), that he'd really rather not touch but the Decepticon had it quite clear he was to clean, when he felt claws trace his doorwing hinge. He jerked forward on instinct, chains rattling and doorwings jerking up and out in anger, yet that didn't keep the claws from following.

"I can read Praxian," Barricade chuckled and Bluestreak froze as one claw pressed against the hinge's motor anchoring. "My Carrier was one."

"O-Oh..." He had no idea if that was true, but with how nightmarishly Praxian his captor's frame looked, it- wait. Carrier?  _As in_ \- Even as he half-twisted to stare at the Decepticon from the corner of his optics, he felt sick, like his tank was about to purge. Not even a dry swallow relieved the feeling. "Y-You were-?"

Bluestreak swore he saw at least one pair of optics roll, while the other pair seemed to glint. "Naturally."

He didn't care if that was true or not; the mere idea was anathema to everything Bluestreak knew. The Autobot didn't even try and hold back as he purged his tank all over the floor, some of it landing on him, but that wasn't important. No, his mind was on what Barricade was:  _Sparked_. An  _abomination_  against nature and the Decepticon seemed  _proud_  that he wasn't from the Only True Source of Life. The Allspark. His tanks threatened to purge again as disgust rose, swiftly turning to revulsion. How - How could- why did Primus allow such a thing? It wasn't right. Anything from elsewhere was twisted and perverse. Unnatural. Vile and revolting. An  _insult_  to life.

No wonder the Decepticon seemingly collected heads. "Unicron-spawn-"

And that was about the time he was introduced, face-first, to his purge by a snarling Barricade, the Decepticon's EM-field oppressively cruel and tinged with energonlust as he rubbed the Noble's face in the sticky, stinking mess while Bluestreak scrambled against the flooring in futile attempt to get away. Something was snarled, but Bluestreak was too busy fighting a losing battle to escape the grip to care what his captor wanted. 

This was beyond vile and if he could just get a hold of one of the chains- Ah. There. His hand closed around it and the young adult attempted to twist enough to fling the chain into Barricade's side. " _No-_ "

Barricade snarled, his grip tightening, freehand catching, and yanking, on the chain until Bluestreak was shrieking, arm pulled painfully high behind his back. It was threat enough that Bluestreak was certain he would  _not_  like what came next if he disobeyed. "Clean."

"Yes, Masta!" It was more a sob of intakes and engines than anything, the Decepticon word strange as it left his mouth, but as soon as he said the words his arm dropped to his side with a clatter of chain.

He took three tries to lick up all the purge without adding to the mess on the floor, and it settled in his tank like a rancid treat only worse.

"Good," Barricade hissed, dragging claws over the back of Bluestreak's neck, eliciting a whimper from the newly made slave. Yet that didn't seem to deter the Decepticon as the claws trailed his back then across doorwings, slowly dragging across paint and metal with a squeal until they rested at the edges, deceptively light against the sensor nodes clustered in that location. Bluestreak must have whimpered because what sounded like an amused rumble came from his captor; the next thing he knew, Frenzy had reappeared on his shoulder and it took everything the sniper-to-be had to hold still after the initial jerk.

Much, much later after he'd learn just  _who_  Soundwave was, Bluestreak would be glad he'd only jerked once. Sure, he'd whimpered when the claws dug into the cluster, but it was better than what Soundwave would have done, and when the claws returned to resting deceptively light against the sensors he sagged in relief. It earned him a dark chuckle, but Bluestreak didn't care, engine hitching when the same claws seemed to pet a sensor as Barricade and Frenzy talked. Well, he assumed it was, even if he had no hope of understanding anything.

And then his head was pressed into the ground yet again and it felt as if the shocktrooper was using almost all of his weight, Barricade's other hand tangled against the motor cabling, claws resting amongst delicate wiring. Bluestreak barely realised how fragged he'd  _be_  if he moved before something jacked into his helm dataport and pulverised what firewalls he had.

The young Noble screamed, his first and only attempt to get away reminding him of the precarious position he was in as he felt wires and tubing slice and fluids trickle down his back, and unwilling to lose his doorwings, he stilled, a look of painful hatred etched onto his face. He was being hacked and he could do nothing to prevent it. It hurt, feeling as if he'd been shot, only this bullet wasn't an oilpellet. This bullet was worse than anything he'd ever experienced in his woefully short life. He hated it, hated how he could hear and feel Barricade's laughter as the slagger took pleasure from his pain. Bluestreak hated how the Minicon could see everything he was.

His hopes and dreams- how he wanted to become the best amongst his peers with a rifle, how he wanted to join the clubs, how he wanted a sparked rifle because those were awesome and it would be his though maybe he'd remove the t-cog, but then again, having one that transformed seemed cool. He wanted a good job, and he'd get a good job because of his status in life. His life and how happy he'd been because he'd wanted for nothing and could do almost anything he wished with just a bit of work. Life had been good, privileged and his wants taken care of. His -

The hacker even saw his crush, and unbidden, an image of Megabolt rose in his mind. The mech was a cute tread-wheeled car of the same rank who's frame had been commissioned in Kaon at the behest of his Caretaker, a tank-like mech. He was silver and blue with purple accents and a weird shade of red optics and fangs for teeth. He had claws, but they were Autobot claws and the way he moved was Autobot. He was cute and wonderful, kind but driven in ways Bluestreak didn't understand, and his helm was reminiscent of a three-pronged crown. His own Caretakers had been trying to secure his first date with Megabolt.

A date that would never happen and -

_GET OUT_! He screamed as the hacker dug deeper and deeper, into everything that made him who he was, and Bluestreak did the only thing he could. He kept up a litany of ' _OUT OUT OUT-!_ ' until eventually, Frenzy left, and he was back in reality, still face against the floor and a laughing Decepticon next to him and a small hacking Minicon on his shoulder, chattering away in what sounded like a mix-mash of languages, and Bluestreak knew he should not be shocked that a Decepticon Minicon had been forced to know that many. There was Binary, Decepticon's language, a handful of Standard Neo-Cybex words, and a word or two in what Bluestreak would come to know as Kayuun- the language of the Kaiju.

How Barricade understood, Bluestreak didn't want to know. Nor did he want to know what they were talking about, but he could guess. It was probably about what Frenzy found. What he saw. What he shouldn't have, and Bluestreak's engine growled. "That was  _private_ -"

"And?" Barricade asked as he rose, Frenzy jumping to his shoulder. It took a nudge of the larger carmech's foot before Bluestreak picked himself up and slowly return to his job, tank rolling and helm aching. Behind him, he could hear the two Decepticons chatting yet again, but he did his best to ignore it. Trying to understand them would not help with the job, and not doing it not no an option.

Of course the chains got in the way, but he wasn't willing to ask the Decepticon to remove them. For all he knew, he'd be made to beg.

After some time, he heard the door open, and with a rattle of chains, he whirled around in time to see Frenzy dart off to who knew where, while Barricade merely smiled, cocking his head at the door.

Bluestreak stupidly, foolishly took a step towards it, and Barricade's smile grew and his claws twitched.

Optics wide, Bluestreak stilled, half raising his hands in surrender as his optics darted between the smile and the twitching claws, panic blooming across his mind and face.

He'd been caught out. He knew he'd been caught out.

"Smart, Autobot," the Decepticon purred as the door clicked shut, and Bluestreak hunched as the Nightmare Praxian approached, trying, and failing, to keep his EM-field as close as he could. It didn't help. As soon as he felt those claws on his doorwings yet again, he whimpered, bleeding fear. There was only so much bravery he could front before it started to crumble.

"Don't-"

It was more of a whimper than he wanted it to be, and all it got him was a dark chuckle, the feeling of a pleased EM-field, and claws digging into the sensors as they trailed over to the front. "I'll do what I want with property."

"I'm not-"

Bluestreak was cut off as the chain and collar became a noose his hands clawed at uselessly, trying desperately to release the chain, if not the collar. It was no use; the chain attached would not release at his touch, and Barricade - judging by the dark, dark chuckles with undertones of enjoyment - the slagger was getting off on this- was amused. Bluestreak shot him a dark look as he hauled a fraction of his weight up, alleviating some of the choking. While it wouldn't kill him, it would restrict primary intakes and force secondary ones to work overtime to compensate, and he'd heard -would later learn first hand before Motor Master and Barricade had been fragging  _Curious_ \- it was rather painful due to the build-up of heat within his ventilations.

"You're going to learn your place and learn it well." Barricade might as well have been talking about the weather.

"Let go!"

Barricade snarled, and the next thing Bluestreak knew, he'd been flung into the nearest wall, the Decepticon on him within a nanoklik, helpfully sending him crashing to the ground, a heavy foot on his chest, pinning him in place. "I own you, Autobot."

"I don't belong to anyone!" Bluestreak hissed as he struggled to throw what seemed like an immovable weight off him. "I'm a Noble, n-"

"You're in no position to be demanding anything." Metal creaked as Barricade shifted his weight and Bluestreak fought back the whimper. He refused to give into the fear clawing at his mind, never mind Barricade was like a giant oppressive stasismare made real. "Your privileges died with your city, slave."

Bluestreak knew he'd made an affronted noise -because what? he was no slave; he was a Noble, and he mattered in ways this Decepticon would never understand- even as he spat out: "You- My city wasn't worth what you did to it-!"

As far as Bluestreak knew that was truth. Pria had been a colony of Praxus on a moon around a brilliant blue gas planet that orbited a golden star, established on a minor trade route not long after the Age of Primes had ended. Its main draw was tourism (and the technological summit that Praxus held there every megavorn, and Bluestreak had been named for two of the leading minds in Praxus because Fallback had liked the idea of combining the names), and it didn't even have a Cityspark, let alone a Titan like Praxus did, and Bluestreak had seen the Praxian Titan all of once and it had been in a documentary about the Enforcer-cadre that cared for the creature.

The documentary had even hinted that the Chief of the Enforcers was linked to the Titan, but Bluestreak wasn't sure he believed that, if only because it was said anyone linked with a Titan was an abomination, and he doubted Praxus would _ever_ allow such a thing to reach any kind of rank.

"Crushing Autobot morale is worth a lot more than simple strategy," his captor snarled, and before Bluestreak could think, let alone get a word out of his mouth, Bluestreak found himself hauled up by the chain and collar and pulled in close, the Decepticon almost purring. "You are a worthless piece of scrap and would have been sent to the smelter if I hadn't bought you."

"W-What?" That... that wasn't true, was it? He was a Noble, not - not a piece of scrap. "I-"

Barricade cocked his head, optics alight with what Bluestreak could only assume was sadistic intent. "You should be grateful."

_Grateful_?! This- this- this  _plebeian_  was telling him that he was worth nothing yet was saved and he should be grateful?!

"I am not worthless!" Bluestreak spat out as he struggled against the grip, fingers clawing and prying at the claws around his arm, even as the idea that he should try to use the chains attached to him as a weapon. He dismissed the idea, unwilling to find out what Barricade would do if he tried that again. Probably tear his arm off or something. "I'm worth more than you could t-!"

"You want me to tell you what you're worth, _slave_?" Barricade snarled and Bluestreak found himself shoved back, the Sparked now circling him with an unnerving predatory gleam in his optics.

His whimper was completely involuntary, even as he scrambled to get away, only to find the Praxian following him.

"W-What are you..?" he whispered, stumbling over one of the chains, almost tripping over it in his haste to get away. There was no way that was a normal frame. Not with the amount of fear that it instilled in his spark. A spark that almost spun its way out of his chamber when Barricade's claws scored a shallow hit to his side.

"Answer me when I talk to you!" Barricade growled, advancing on Bluestreak, who backpedalled back as fast as he could until he ran into the wall, where he attempted to become one with it while systems rattled, struggling to pull in enough air in his Not!Terrified state.

"I'm _not_ worthless, like the lower class-"

"Wrong answer!"

Bluestreak feared the snarling 'Con might go for the chain on his collar again and wouldn't that be lovely only not because his neck was an aching mess and he was quite certain the collar had cut into plating, but instead of a yank, he found himself very suddenly 'helped' to the floor as his legs were swept out from under him. 

Barricade knelt in front of him and Bluestreak recoiled- there was no way he was going to be able to push himself up, let alone get away, yet still rose to the bait, almost spitting: "What?"

Barricade seemed to have acquired more teeth than he should have had and Bluestreak wasn't sure what he was seeing wasn't simply because of the blow to his helm. "You ask me-"

He stared at the Decepticon, unable to understand the words, and he didn't think he wanted to. But, he must have stared too long, because Barricade started to rise, the hated chain in his hand again.

"W-Wait!" Fragger was enjoying this, he had to be, but at least he'd paused, and Bluestreak swallowed his pride. Frag his life. Yet, for all he was doing this to save his neck, he still managed to inject some venom into his words as he clumsily repeated the Decepticon words.

He also prayed that he hadn't screwed them up. "W-W-What am I worth,  M-Masta?" 

"You're worth about four hundred credits. I could probably get more scrapping you." He grabbed Blue's faceplates and forced the other to look at him. "You might be worth a little more if you turn out to be a decent interface, but that's doubtful."

Inter...face? 

No. 

No. No. 

_Nonono_. All the No's in the galaxy. All of them. Times infinity and beyond!

Bluestreak shook his head so hard even he thought it might fall off. He did not just hear that and Barricade was starting to smile, and the young Noble tried and failed, to fight against the chains yanking him away from the wall. "I-I'm- I'm barely old enough to be considered a full adult, let alone to _interface_!" 

There was a note of very real panic in his voice, and that, Bluestreak released when Barricade stopped and stared at him as if seeing him in a new light all of a sudden, had been _the worst_ thing he could have possibly said, and he could only stare in horror as a wicked, wicked smirk spread over Barricade's faceplates. Bluestreak wished he'd died in the attack; that he had been scrapped; that he'd kept his mouth _shut_.

"So you've _never_ 'faced at all, then?" Barricade said and the Autobot could feel those optics raking over his frame.

"N-No." Bluestreak squeaked, wondering when his bravery had finally deserted him. Probably just now. Sure, he'd sparked himself off a few times, but that was different, and everyone knew you waited until the first date to start any kind of interfacing exploration, because what else was a first date for if not that? "P-please don't-"

Barricade's chuckle turned into a full laugh. "Oh, this is better than I could have hoped. The only question is if I wait for Wildrider or not?"

Bluestreak had no idea who that was, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know -and he would come to wish he'd never found out because that mech was psychotic and dangerous-, not with the way the name seemed to be purred, as if this Wildrider was someone close to his captor.

"No!" And what little bravery remained thoroughly fled as what was about to happen finally sunk in, and he panicked, attempting to stand, only to find himself forced to the ground as the black-and-white straddled him, easily forcing his hands over his head. "Please! No! Anything else!"

Whatever other pleas he had shut off as his head rocked to the side, Barricade's claws then caressing the area, and Bluestreak flinched, a sob working its way out of him. This was not happening, this was not happening. Primus willing, this was a very _very_ bad stasismare and he was going to wake. 

Yet it wasn't, and the claw stroking a seam in his chestplating was real. Very, very real and he twisted as much as he could, but that didn't deter the larger. If anything, it only made Barricade settle his weight more solidly, as if keeping him pinned wasn't an easy task for the larger and heavier. Bluestreak liked to think it wasn't, if only because that maybe made things marginally better. Maybe. 

"I don't think you're in any position to be asking me for anything."

"N-No- Please-" He didn't want this, he didn't want it at all, and he tried to lockdown his plating, but all that brought was a dark chuckle and burst of words he didn;t understand, and he was starting to hate how easily the shocktrooper seemed to switch languages, making it seem as if he was toying with him, and he probably was. 

"You aren't gonna fight me off that easy, kid," Barricade laughed as he settled his weight yet again, this time on Bluestreaks thighs, effectively denying the terrified Autobot the option to kick. "Just a bit of fun." 

"Please stop!" Bluestreak's optics spiralled wide, optics almost white with the fear his EM-field bled. Barricade was right; there was literally nothing he could do to make him stop, to prevent this. He was going to interface one way or another. But... But he had to try. "Please- Please Master, please... I don't want this-"

The beg was cut off when the mech's free claws were roughly shoved under hip plating, and Bluestreak had thought his optics couldn't go any wider. He was wrong. " _ **NO**_!" 

" _Yes_ ," Barricade grinned. "You're going to interface with me whether you like it or not."

"I-I-" He hiccoughed, engine spluttering and vents choking as he struggled to keep with the demand for cooling air, but he managed to force his next words out, more a plaintive whine of a vornling than anything. "Please _not like this_ -!"

Not like this, _never_ like this and while one's first wasn't special, many of his agemates had chosen to wait until they where in their final frames so they could better explore; explorations that normally happened on the first date, because that was, technically, what a first date was: it marked a mech's arrival in to the adult world. Though no one would begrudge a newly adulted mecha from exploring outside that but Bluestreak didn't think it was proper at all.

"What did you want for your first interface?" Barricade seemed to consider him, and Bluestreak swallowed, almost jumping out of his frame when the cruel claws gently rubbed the wiring and tubing under the hip panel. "Like this?"

"I- Y-Yes!" He choked out, optics flashing in confusion as intakes heaved but he dare, dare not hope. This was a Decepticon. 

A Decepticon who was smirking at him and the next thing Bluestreak knew, the collar had been pushed up somewhat - painfully and Bluestreak didn't even try and pretend that wasn't a whine of pain. That fragging thing was attached to his spinal cabling fraggit- as Barricade nibbled at exposed neck cabling.

"If you listen, there's nothing to be afraid of."

Bluestreak opened his mouth to retort there _was_ , because what part of no didn't he understand. but then again, this was a Decepticon brute so he couldn't be expected to know that _no was no_ and - but then he felt claws ghost his doorwing in what he could only assume was a mockery of a lover's caress, and he jerked away with a terrified squeal, chains jerking as his hands half-came down in an effort to defend himself before his processor caught up with reality. He froze, optics flashing in terror at the dark, angry rev of the Decepticon's engine as the gentleness turned to harsh cruelty and Barricade ground himself against Bluestreak. 

He did the only thing he could - he started to struggle, jerking, or attempting to because they were once again pinned above his head, and Barricade's free hand was-

"Nonono-PLEASE _NO_ -"

" _Hold still_." The dark voice held the promise of unspeakable cruelty if he wasn't obeyed.

He stilled with a broken sob as those claws ghosted his panel, toying with the seams there and there was nothing he could do that was going to stop this. He could fight and struggle but that would make it worse, and the other's field was - unreadable and he didn't know when that had happened, but he could only assume that fighting would make things that much worse. So he held still, engine hitching and straining because he wanted to flee. Not hold still.

Barricade's chuckle dragged another sob out of the Autobot, but all he did was nuzzle his neck, the hand pinning his hands leaving to trace the edges of his doorwing. Bluestreak flinched, but dare not move more than that, and even the flinch was risky in his mind. Even when the other hand left his panel to start tracing seams that lead up to his chestplates, he did not move, nor did he protest.

To do so was to risk being hurt, and while the grinding was rough and painful, he knew it could get so, so much worse. 

"Good slave. Open your optics."

He hadn't been aware he'd screwed them shut, but he opened them, blanching when four red optics met his, and he could do little but stare, terrified, at them, a strangled whimper escaping at the sight of Barricade's crooked grin.

The monster was dragging things out for his own sick amusement, that much Bluestreak was certain of because why else would he be doing this? He was a monster, an abomination of the wo-

Bluestreak gasped as a claw ghosted over one of the sensors on the edge of the doorwing, and he instinctively shifted, just a fraction because he did not want to be hurt, into it. That was good and he liked it but it was probably a trap to get him to disobey and-

This time he whimpered as he pressed into the pleasure, optics flickering because fear and confusion, not understanding what his captor was playing at, especially when the other hand ghosted chestplate seems, and Bluestreak arched, with a whimper-groan into the deadly, deadly claws that had brought pleasure, not pain.

What-

"Do you like that?"

"Y-yes, Master," it was more of a squeak, optics wide and worried because what if he'd just answered wrong- and that worry turned to fear at the chuckle and he tried and failed to bite back the sob that racked his frame. He liked it, yes, but this was a Decepticon and he'd fallen into a trap-

He gasped, arching into the claws on his chest as they lightly stroked another seam, and against his better judgement, he started to wriggle against Barricade, frame reacting to the sensations he was getting, head looking back so more of his neck cabling was visible.

A glossa ran over it and Bluestreak gasped, optics widening when claws ghosted his doorwing, following a line in the thin plating. He groaned, the doorwing pressing up into the claws while his hands fisted above his head as his engine spluttered out what could have been a tiny purr.

"M-more- please-" He hated this, hated how he was starting to beg yet it did felt good-

He could have sworn Barricade chuckled against his neck, the sound reverberating through his frame in a way he wasn't sure he liked but felt good. Almost as good as the claws that had worked themselves under his hip-plating to tug and pinch at wiring, and Bluestreak arched into it with a whimper-groan and a squirm. It was a needy, wanting squirm and some distant part of his processor hate himself. This was a _Decepticon_ , this was a dangerous, cruel mech and he knew it and he-

Oh. That was good and somehow Barricade had worked his hands under the smaller's frame to trace the door hinges along with the front of the doorwings and he liked that-

But all good things come to an end, and it was the brush of another interface panel against his that snapped him back to reality.

No- No _no_ ** _no_** -

He tried to swallow his whimper as he shifted away, doing his best to wriggle his doorwings. Play with them, he thought. Not- not the other thing-

All that earned him was another brush of the monster's panel against his.

"No-" It was more of a sob than anything, and it was definitely out before he could stop it, and he felt more than saw Barricade still. Claws pressed against his doorwings and sensors helpfully informed him that any more pressure and the doorwings would  _shred_  like sheet metal of the lowest quality.

"What was that?"

"I-" Bluestreak whimpered, intakes and vents very much having a fragging field day as they tried to cool overclocking systems. "I- I-"

He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to do this and then Barricade's face was back in his field of vision, doorwings creaking under the weight shift, red optics bright and it had to be cruelty.

"Beg, slave, like the worthless scrap you are," Barricade hissed.

"I.. I.. " He floundered for any words -how did one beg? what did they say? he had no idea and his spark was threatening to burn its way out of his chest- that may appease the Decepticon, even a bit. "I.. Pl-please...  _No_ -" 

He shrieked as claws punctured his doorwings and threatened to tear them to shreds and his optics blew as wide as they could go. "S-Stop-please- I- I beg you-"

"Beg me to do what?"

"I-" Another sob racked his frame as he trembled under the cold gaze. "Please be ge-gentle with me, Master? " His voice shook as he said that, knowing that Barricade might not want to hear that, but it was all the to-be-sniper could think of because that's what he wanted, outside of this not happening, but asking - begging for it not to happen was not - wasn't - he couldn't do that. He wasn't brave enough. "Please please please-"

The mantra ended in another shriek as the claws were dragged across the doorwings, metal squealing in protest as Bluestreak struggled against the assault, only to end up still at yet another harsh grind against his hips and panel. " _Please stop_ -"

"Why should I be gentle with a disrespectful pile of parts like you?" He shifted up a little so he could look Blue in the face.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry,  _I'm sorry_ \- please-"

"Answer the question, slave," Barricade snarled with a nasty, nasty engine rev.

"I-" He tried, only for his voice to lock up and he flinched, yet no pain came, and he took the chance - moment? when would the pain came because he was certain Barricade thought he was stalling, but he wasn't, he wasn't- to suck in as much cool air as he could. "I know I don't deserve it.-" He flinched at the snort, but Barricade mad no move to stop him, and Bluestreak took that chance to forge on. "But please- I beg you- please don't hurt me. Please don't make it hurt. "

  
If he could, he'd have tried to spread his legs, but he couldn't due to Barricade's weight, and the fear that  _any_  movement would end in pain. He hated that part of himself -he should fight to the bitter end, but he didn't know how! Plus, this -the interface- would happen and Barricade had asked and maybe, hopefully, if he showed he wouldn't fight, that he -not accepted because he did not accept this situation and he hated it so much- then maybe it wouldn't hurt. Hopefully. Instead, he tried to return the grind even as his engine stalled, spluttering and whining because no  _what was he doing_ -

He was trying to make it hurt less.  _He had to try_ -

Barricade laughed as he said something in his native language that Bluestreak didn't catch, but it didn't matter because he wailed as his attempt was returned with a rough grind.

Primus and the Golden Crystals, had he been wrong? had he only encouraged the monster-

"You gonna to behave?"

Was it his imagination, or did Barricade's voice sound ... a little staticky. But that didn't matter because it was a question, and he had to answer-

"Ye-Yes Masta!"

"I'm not sure I believe you."

Nonono- he'd be good, he'd be good- 

"Please! I will! _I'll behave_!" Bluestreak knew his face had contorted with fear as Barricade rubbed the palms of his hands back up the gouges on his wings, and it _hurt_. "Please, please, please  Masta. I know- I'm not worthy- but please- It's all I beg of you-"

He shut his vocalizer off when the claws touched delicate sensor nodes on the edge of the doorwings, shivering and bracing for pain - yet it never came. Instead, the claws were dragged lightly over them, almost as if they were tracing the edge. 

A groan worked its way out of him as the doorwing shifted into the claws. 

"Good little slave" He emphasized the word with a grind of his hips, and Bluestreak whimpered, doing his best to hold still, to be good, if only so the pain did not return. 

"Y-Yes Masta. "

He was good, because of course he was good and he wished the fragger would just get it over with, instead of dragging it out, but no. He was a slave and this was his life now and it wasn't a life he wanted but if he tried to fight back - 

He hated himself for that. For not fighting back. But what could he do?

Groan, apparently, as a hand rested on his hip-plating before it trailed to-

He whined in fear as it rested against his panel, optics screwing shut because the other hand had somehow found its way into the doorwing's hinge, searching for any sensitive spots in the joint. They hit them, and Bluestreak groaned again. Denial, self-hate, defeat, and a host of other emotions swirled in his mind as his frame continued to betray him, reacting to the touches. Reacting as if this wasn't a Decepticon, but he could not deny that Barricade knew how to bring pleasure. A pleasure that made it harder to obey, to hold still, and he choked on a whimper-moan, on the words that left his mouth. "M-Ma--sta\- please.. ple-ease per-permit me to move- to- to t-touch you?"

"Online your optics," Barricade growled, and the Autobot onlined his optics to find the Sparked's unreadable face staring at him yet again. Bluestreak swallowed, intakes heaving and his engine ticked over in a squeal as Barricade dragged his hand out of the hinges and all the way across to the edge, where he toyed with a sensor. "You can touch," the Decepticon started, laughing at Bluestreak's shock, yet then his claws turned hard, dangerous. "But you even _think_ about yanking on anything, you'll regret it."

"Y-Yes Master."

He didn't expect the pleased rumble from Barricade, and he wasn't sure if it was because he understood the threat, or because he'd gotten the damnable word right. It didn't matter, and he could move - could touch. Slowly, he brought his hands down, chains rattling in an unwanted reminder of his situation, and timidly rested them against the pointed, spiked shoulders of his- his captor. -Not his master, never his master- and started to rub them. At the same time, he wriggled against the other and he must have done something right, as Barricade seemed to hiss in pleasure and the hand on his panel moved away. 

Bluestreak offered no resistance when his legs were pushed apart and Barricade settled in the space. 

This was happening, he had a chance to try and make sure it felt good, and he- he-

"Please don't hurt me-"

He was a coward who whimpered when the hand returned, claws dipping into the seams. It was uncomfortable and he was still clumsily exploring the monster's frame, careful not to do anything that could be seen as a threat. If he was braver he'd have tried something. He should have tried something, but the thought of pain, of this- this - this interface turning into a nightmare of pain and torture wasn't a pleasant one. 

This was happening because he was weak-

"Open," Barricade growled, voice laced with static, as he gave the edge of the doorwing a squeeze. "Open them, Bluestreak."

_Don't use my name, you have no right to_ \- Bluestreak snarled in his mind, even as he obeyed the command, because to think of it as anything but was foolish. It was stupid and it was asking - begging to be hurt. He let out a thin, weak whine when the claws dipped into his port, rimming it and tracing the start of the rings of copper that threaded the walls of the port. Then a claw dipped in and Bluestreak froze as terror flooded him. Nonono-please no - he'd heard stories of how easily the not-that-deep walls could tear, or how painful the act was if there was a tear, of how the electricity produced wasn't drained properly and -

Something touched the callipers at the very end and Bluestreak turned his head away, face crumpling as his port was explored. It felt weird, unnerving. Unpleasant and tingly and he- he squirmed as another tingle hit him as the claw was pulled out. Then it dipped back in and a Bluestreak knew he'd sobbed, even as Barricade said something, and Bluestreak didn't want to know what it was, because the Decepticon was getting off on his fear and terror and was probably the kind that got off on pain and he- 

Another sob and tremble racked him as the claws ghosted over the callipers, and it felt - good but not and he held as still as he could. Yet it remained there and Bluestreak's optics shot open as he hastily started up his trembling, shaky -and at times with a rattle of the hated chains- explorations of the abomination's frame. And it was an abomination. It was sharp and pointed, dark and cruel and he could feel scars and wields. He could trace seems but not work his fingers under them and he didn't put too much effort into it-

The claw retracted and he shuddered with a small whine. 

When had his mind - _traitorous_ mind because he was being _forced_ and it wasn't far that he was doing this and he didn't want to but it felt good and he hated it so much- decided that it'd felt good and - 

He groaned, arching into the claw that rimmed his port, and that was the other hand trailing down his chestplates and working into one of the seams, and on instinct, because it felt traitorously good, he leaned into it with a purr, and then Barricade was rumbling something into his neck plating, and the sounds sent a small shockwave of pleasure through him-

He whined, gasping as reality snapped back into focus as something pushed its way into his port -

NO-

"Please-" He forced out through a static-laced voice, half clinging to the monster above him because he couldn't make up his mind even as he  _hated_  this, it was a good feeling and the energy and electricity the plug generated as it passed each ring of copper was - good. No, unwanted and it was uncomfortable, and he feared what to come- "D-don't-" 

Barricade's engine rumbled, and Bluestreak whimpered as he looked away, unwilling to look at his captor because he'd said no yet it was- 

He gasped in air as side vents flung themselves open to dump a build-up of heat, but that didn't help, and Bluestreak briefly entertained the idea of trying to shove the Decepticon off him but- no. 

All he could do was take it, and it didn't stop until callipers clasped around the plug, the connection set with a pulse of magnetic energy. There was no going back now, and Bluestreak was a shaking, trembling mass of an Autobot, pleasure and fear playing across his mind as Barricade trailed claws across the frame, dipping in here and there before they found a certain seam on his chest plates-

Bluestreak locked those down as fast as he could, hearing the locks engage and Barricade's rumbling laughter as claws pried into the seam before they left, trailing down to his hip then across to his plug. 

He tried and failed, to not think of the damage that could be done. He must have whimpered or something because there was another chuckle from the thing over him. The thing that had stolen what was supposed to be a happy memory-

Bluestreak gasped when it was pushed into the monster's port and guided until large callipers locked around the connecting pins. He didn't even notice that Barricade was controlling the connection, too busy hating himself, hating how he shivered and writhed under the assault of pleasure, hating how those claws felt good, how his frame was on the verge of something.

He almost wished it was painful because then he wouldn't be rocking back and forth in time with the thrusts of the abomination. Thrusts that weren't gentle, but didn't hurt as much as he expected. "Please-" He choked out after one particularly hard thrust. The only answer he got was a rumbling engine rev against his frame, even as Barricade seemed to pull away, and Bluestreak found himself grinding back against the other, hands scrambling over the plating, and Barricade revved again. 

It was his only warning; the Decepticon's next thrust was hard and Bluestreak cried out in pain/pleasure. half clinging to him as something - overload. it was the fraggers overload, and it was a powerful one- washed over him. Bluestreak clung to Barricade with static-filled whimper-wail-moan as he wriggled under him, the pain, the pleasure, even the fear and terror and panic and all the other emotions he couldn't name - mixed with the overload, dragging him closer to his own.

He found he didn't want the feeling to end, didn't want to return to reality. He wanted it to last longer. "Please-" 

Something pulsed through the connection for several klicks, and then-

The world seemed to go white as pleasure washed over him.

He onlined to aches and pain, to something heavy - dark and cruel and brutal and very Decepticon- to something still in his port-

"No-" He whimpered, struggling against the Decepticon until he found his hands pinned above his head against, Barricade smirking down at him with more teeth than he should have. He stilled with a hiccoughing sob and fear plain on his face as Barricade sent a pulse of data through the one-sided connection. 

No.. no - was there more to come? He didn't want more. He wanted the other to get off him, to go far, far away because that was - disgusting. Gross. He'd been forced by an abomination and it - he'd - he'd been made to like it. 

"I-" 

"You what?" the dark voice said, a hard thrust following the words.

"I-" He worked his mouth, trying and failing to swallow the panic and fear. "T-Thank you- F-For n-not h-hurting me-" He spat out after a few false starts, and Barricade lent in close. Too close for Bluestreak, but there was nothing he could do. 

"You might be worth the credits I paid after all," he growled.

He didn't even pretend not to slump in relief. T-That was good. It had to be good because he did not want to know if that whole 'only worth scrap' was true. 

"Never let it be said I did nothing nice for you." He smirked wickedly. "Don't hope it to happen often."

"Y-Yes Master." Kind? _Kind_? He- He could take that because he was sure that was _kind_ by Decepticon terms.

"You come to me if you wanna overload, got it? I catch you sparking off and you'll find this-" and the chain on the collar suddenly and violently made itself known again "a very short leash."

"Yes-!"

"Good," Barricade sent another pulse before disconnecting, sliding his panel closed as he pushed himself up off Bluestreak, who could only stare at him in disbelief. "You got all that?"

If he wanted - _if he wanted_ an overload? Was the abomination against nature serious? as if he wanted  _anything_  to do with overloading ever again, thank you very much. What he wanted was - was - he didn't know. He didn't know, and he hated the feeling of dirty that was settling against him. Dirty. Disgusting. Filthy due to an unwanted touch that he didn't do enough to try to stop-  "I- I-" Barricade's optics narrowed and Bluestreak flinched back. "I- Y-Yes, Master."

"Now," Barricade said, and the only other word Bluestreak understood was 'clean'. 

His spark sank, yet he picked himself up, wincing when all the aches, not just from his port, hit him again. But, a glance at his captor showed Barricade expected to be obeyed. 

And with no other choice, Bluestreak obeyed.

* * *

"I- cleaned for a while before Wildrider s-showed up, and he- he was in a sour mood. I never found out why, only that he wasn't kind when he hacked me to find out what it had been like for his partner to interface with me. I-I though Frenzy c-could hurt, b-but I was wrong." Bluestreak finished, optics distant, while Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared horrified looks. 

"What..."

"T-They t-took me t-together. T-Took my... my spark and ma-made it hurt," Bluestreak said between sobs, one leg pulled up against his chest. 

"Your spark," Sideswipe said softly, even as Sunstreaker's rage flashed white-hot over the twin-bond, intensifying when Bluestreak nodded. Sideswipe chose not to ask how often either of the events had taken place, or what else had happened. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, and Bluestreak desperately needed to get away from the frontlines and talk to someone that could help him through this. 

Plus, there was the issue of the sparkrapes, and while Sideswipe did not want to consider it... "Have you told a medic...?"

"No." The reply was fast, no hesitation. "Can't-"

"You're not dirty," Sunstreaker spoke up now, voice tight, controlled. "Barricade is Unicron-spawn. You're a victim and not at fault. He touched your spark, the very thing that makes you who you are. You should see a medic. Please." 

"Not right now, but soon," Sideswipe said as Bluestreak opened his mouth. "We'll go with you.." 

Given how hard Bluestreak was clinging to him.... Yea. 

"I... I'll t-think about it...?" 

"Ok," Sideswipe said while Sunstreaker nodded. 

/ _You- We're doing this, aren't we?_ /

/ _He's a civilian, Sunny,_ / Sideswipe sent back. / _Unfrag that part of your coding and get with the picture._ /

/ _And people say_ I'm _the worst half._ /

Sideswipe flashed his twin a fanged grin -Sunstreaker was the 'worst half'- before turning back to Bluestreak. Who was staring at him. 

"You have fangs."

"Was built with them," he said with an easy, practised shrug. "Wanna raid the rations locker for more energon with us?"

"S-Sure?" Bluestreak squeaked, allowing himself to be helped up.

"Great," Sunstreaker said. "Stick with us, Bluestreak. We'll keep you _safe_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first foray into writing rape solely from the victim's point of view, and I'd deeply appreciate any and all feedback on it. I hope I managed to do a decent job with it, yet I can't be sure.  
> 
> That said, there's only two more chapters of this left- one detailing the aftermath and touching on how Bluestreak got away.. and then the last deals with the present for Bluestreak.

**Author's Note:**

> Zrill is Barricade's melee weapon. Saw the name in a fic, and it stuck. 
> 
> Five chapters is a tentative outline, given who the PoV character is.....


End file.
